Merry and Bright
by But We Lost Ourselves
Summary: AU: Christmastime has a way of changing things. For college students Zach and Cammie, only so many sprigs of mistletoe can be avoided, and only so much hot cocoa can ward off the dreaded cold. With so many Christmas trees around, it's safe to say their world is about to be rocked.
1. it's grand just holding your hand

**A/N: I've been debating whether or not to put this up, because at this point it's pretty much fluff and pointlessness. But that's the best stuff, right? Anyways, tonight's been a pretty good night (I fell on my face twice in front of 72,000 of my closest friends. And enemies? I don't know.) and football season is now officially over (on an awesome note) so I think I may have time to work on this. This can stand alone as a one shot, but I have a little bit more up my sleeve. I may continue it. I don't know. Without further ado, I give you...**

Merry and Bright

_"Life's not the mountaintops, it's the walking inbetween, and I like you walking next to me..." - _Ben Rector

If the square were any more packed, it would have been considered a fire hazard. Little kids were packed along the edges of the coned-off roadway, waving their light-up wands and swords and chasing one another with hot-chocolate mustaches and the most adorable, puffy jackets to be found. As I cupped my cup of hot chocolate in my hands, I glanced around at the dark crowd, seeing out a familiar face.

"Looking for someone?" A hand snuck around the small of my back, a warm voice was near my ear, and I smiled involuntarily.

"Well, I was trying for Santa, but I guess you'll have to do," I turned my head to smile at him, and he winked, flashing a wide grin before sobering again.

"Well… I'm not sure I can grow a white beard, but I probably _can_ get ahold of the suit somehow if you really—"

"Zach," I laughed, elbowing him.

"Hey, just trying to better my chances here," he grabbed my hot chocolate and took a sip, tangling my freed hand in his own.

"_All_ the bold moves tonight, Mr. Goode." I couldn't help but laugh as he squeezed my hand and swung our arms back and forth. I took the moment to appreciate how his dark eyes were sparkling in the dim street lights and to notice how good he looked in flannel.

It was that strange time of year when one never truly knew what the temperature would turn out to be. I was wearing my favorite olive peacoat and boots, but the cold was still nipping at my nose in a way that made me wish for a scarf. Zach had a light jacket on over his button down, but he seemed fine in the chill. I suppose he was better adjusted to the cold than I.

"So, how are you finding the Festival of Lights? Is it to your liking?" He took a last sip of my cocoa and then returned it to me, half-empty.

"So far, it's a whole lot of festival and no lights." And it was. For one of the most famous Christmas light destinations in the country, it was seeming more and more questionable as only the streetlights and shopfronts were shining in the night. Strands of dark lights were visible in the trees, but they were awaiting a more dramatic entrance.

Zach just laughed and started pushing through the crowd, tugging me behind him. My gloves were beginning to seem like a bad idea as his grip slipped and he pushed further into the masses. Before long, my glove was being slipped off and the cold of the night was replaced by the tangle of his warm fingertips. Somehow, it seemed as if something in the air shifted at the contact. As if something was finally changing.

"So," he flashed a wicked smile over his shoulder at me, "'Zachary,' you ask, 'why did you bring me to this totally-overrated and semi-lame family event when you know my tendency towards claustrophobia and cold feet?'" He tugged my hand one last time, a good tug that sent me reeling forward to clumsily falling onto him. "Well, Cammie, if you'll restrain yourself for just one more moment, I'll show you."

He made a big show of squaring my shoulders, making sure that I was going to have the perfect view of whatever it was he was about to show me. If he considered my claustrophobia and wariness mere tendencies, his inclination towards being mellow dramatic was a downright habit.

Before long, I noticed what he was doing. Stalling.

"Zach, if you're trying to make the light reveal something big and perfect, fear not. I've never been to anything even remotely like this in Gallagher. No need to worry." My eye-rolling was evident even by my voice.

Zach rounded me to see my face, biting his lip and looking a tad sheepish and a touch adorable. He kicked at the brick street with his favorite shoes, and I almost laughed—their well-worn, beaten leather was beginning to edge past every-hipster-college-guy-ever and into I-found-these-in-a-hobo's-shopping-cart.

Zachary Goode was one to make sure that everything about his person was bordering-on-but-not-really. (Jeans bordering on faded but not really too tight but bordering on skinny.) (Hair bordering on need of a haircut but not really because it was still short enough on the sides.) (Contacts bordering on constant wear but not really because sometimes when he was really tired or bordering on being late he would put on his thick, squared frames that proved he was really bordering on blindness but not quite.) (Random t-shirts that were bordering on strange but not really because "Surf Kansas" is a pretty cool random shirt and he not-really-but-bordering-on-always wore a flannel to cover half of them anyway.)

(A relationship bordering on love but not really because both he and I were too scared to touch and see the sparks that were already bordering on burning us to the ground.) I involuntarily glanced down to his hand, recapturing mine—burning in the freezing night.

"Well," he ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up at the odd angles that bordered on looking styled but really were just the telltale of a longstanding habit, "I…" he was rubbing his eyes, and I knew in the back of my mind that he was wishing he'd worn his glasses. It was all starting to become a bit strange—he was never like this—uncertainty of himself was his only exception to the "bordering on." It was strictly "not really."

"They're seven and a half minutes late with this and we have places to go and things to see."

"Zach," I laughed. "We have plenty of time. I don't know what you're so worried about." We did this sort of thing often—random, local things like the Farmer's Market and the Lights Festival that all of the other college kids passed up to party or study. Even as I was saying the words, the back of my mind was screaming that this was _Christmas_, this was _Zach_ holding my _hand_, this was _different_. And suddenly, I wasn't so sure that I wanted it to be.

"If you _must_ know," he squeezed my hand, and just like that, Zach was back. His worries were replaced by cockiness and his tired eyes were given a smirk to brighten them. "If you must know… Tonight is the night." His grin was barely being suppressed.

"What night?" Was he going to make a move? It'd been six months and he had yet to make a move that was definitive enough to make a lasting change. I pondered on this a little longer until I realized that he was looking at me with a half-fallen, half-frozen expression, waiting and hoping that I'd catch on before he was forced to fill in the blanks himself.

The night…

The night?

My mind scrambled for purchase in the things he'd mentioned to me about—

Oh.

_Oh…_

The _night_.

"You find out about Columbia tonight."

He was beaming, but he was weary, and I wanted to hug him and hurt him all at once for making me feel so many things.

The smile that blossomed over his face told me that I was okay—that we were okay. "Yeah," he stroked his thumb over my hand.

"Wow... That's... Why are you here?" He should have been back home, refreshing his computer for an email every few minutes, not freezing with me.

"Because I want the perfect night before I open this," he drew a thick, fancy envelope out of his jacket pocket. "That way, whatever it says, I'll remember that moment fondly."

"What?" I snatched my hand out of his and grabbed the envelope, turning it over in my hands a few times and running my thumb over Columbia's seal in the top corner. "They mail these sorts of things? Who does that anymore?"

He laughed, taking the letter from my hands. "If they're anything, they're traditional, Cams." He tucked it back into the inside pocket of his jacket and recaptured my hand.

I looked up, surprised, and he was watching me, an eyebrow raised. Judging my reaction. Slowly, he started massaging my palm with his thumb, still watching me, and I felt my face flood red as electricity shot up my arm.

It was at that moment that what he'd said earlier caught up to me. I'd been so preoccupied at the sight of the envelope that I'd neglected listening to him as closely as I should have. He wanted tonight to be perfect.

Was this his perfect?

I grinned and broke our eye contact, self-conscious but so alive in the moment. I tucked myself in closer to his warmth, and I saw his smile out of the corner of my eye, bigger than it had ever been. He raised his arm to twist around me, drawing me into him without untangling our hands. The action felt so natural that he could have done it a hundred times previously.

Suddenly, this was becoming my perfect.

He was right. It was going to be a night that changed everything.

I thought for a bit, feeling the need to say something. Something that would make this moment real and not just some sort of dream. But as soon as my mouth opened, the Christmas carols stopped and a hush fell over the crowd.

Zach pulled me in, wrapping his other arm around me and finding my left hand somewhere in the process. As the crowd began counting down, an electricity unlike any I'd ever felt blanketed the square. I could feel Zach's breathing and my heartbeat was in my throat as the children around us screamed as loudly as they could.

"Five..." Zach squeezed my hands.

"Four..." He let go to tickle my side, and I laughed, so warm and happy that the sound bubbled out before I could repress it.

"Three..." I suddenly was wondering what had happened to my hot chocolate in all of this, vaguely recalling him throwing it away at some point before Columbia.

"Two..." I squeezed Zach's hands in anticipation.

"One..." His breath was warm at my ear, and suddenly the world was brighter than I'd ever seen it, a wonderland of twinkling lights, and "Merry Christmas" was sounding more like "I love you."

**Review? Please? It's good to be back!**

**- Inez**


	2. your eyes outshine the town

**A/N: I realized I never put a disclaimer up last chapter, so, as if it isn't already obvious, I'm no Ally Carter, and I own no rights to her books.**

**Happy Late New Year to everyone! Thank you SO much for all of the kind reviews. They mean the world!**

**Okay, so I apologize for the weird spacing issues between paragraphs. I can't get Word to fix it, and I'm positively awful with technology, so this is what happens. **

**Despite that issue, here's part two! Hope you enjoy!**

"_One..." His breath was warm at my ear, and suddenly the world was brighter than I'd ever seen it, a wonderland of twinkling lights, and "Merry Christmas" was sounding more like "I love you."_

Suddenly, I felt like the most beautiful display I'd ever seen in my life was dull compared to the most magical boy in the world, who was holding me tight and kissing the top of my head.

Columbia. Grad school. He was growing up, for real this time. Becoming a real adult, not the I'm-a-lost-high-school-graduate kind of adult that was almost but not-really. Suddenly, I was wishing I could grow up with him.

"So," his breath was warm against my neck and sending shivers down my spine. "Is it not the most magical thing you've ever seen?"

I thought of the lights, and then I thought of the light in his eyes, and I was moving before I had time to embarrass myself out of the thought. I untangled myself and dragged him to stand in front of me.

He was looking at me like I was crazy as I crossed my arms and tilted my head this way and that dramatically. "To your right."

"Excuse me?" He was beginning to look concerned, and I was beginning to feel the chill again without his warmth wrapped around me.

"To the right. You're blocking Santa's chair."

"Oh, so now we're back to the Santa complex?"

"Just do it."

He shook his head and stepped to the right, and I held a hand out, silently telling him to freeze. He bit his lip, still worried.

"Relax," I laughed, and immediately, his eyes lit back up, a ghost of a smile shining through his confusion.

"There."

"What?"

"There. That's the most magical thing I've ever seen."

As soon as I said it, I felt the blush creeping up my face. It was by far the most forward thing I'd ever said, and Zach wasn't saying anything or doing anything.

He blinked hard, still surprised, no doubt. I wasn't that kind of girl. What was I even doing? It was stupid, he was leaving and three years really was too big of a gap and...

A bystander walked between us, and our eye contact was broken, along with the spell that had seemed to stop time for a moment.

"Oh," he said, so quietly that I barely heard it, and my breath caught.

He wasn't saying anything else.

How had I been so wrong? He'd wrapped his arms around me and held my hand and he said that I was perfect.

No, I guess not. I was putting words into his mouth.

"Oh," I mirrored, a bit louder.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... I'll just... You know what? I need to go make sure my car is okay in the parking garage. They said something about it closing after ni—" I was stuttering. I closed my mouth abruptly, and I felt the heat of oncoming tears in my eyes.

Of course. How stupid could I be? No guy—man—as perfect as Zachary Goode would want a girl like me.

"I'm sorry," I said in finality, and oh god, my voice cracked and could the moment get any more embarrassing?

"No," he muttered.

And then it did. I spun and started pushing through the crowd as quickly as possible.

"No! Cammie! Wait!" Zach's voice was a strange pitch and so not-Zach that it was like a running into a brick wall.

"Cammie, I'm sorry! Wait! I didn't—I wasn't—I—"

I couldn't keep going—I felt like I would collapse at any moment—but I couldn't face him. Not like that, not after that. I pushed over to the edge of the crowd and found a low curb to fall onto.

"Hey! Young man! Be careful!" I heard an old woman's voice and somewhere in between the mass of moving legs, I made out Zach stumbling over a stroller, looking up, using his height as an advantage as he searched out my head amongst the crowd.

Oh god. I stuffed a hand over my mouth to stifle a sob.

"I'm— I'm sorry," he was apologizing to the lady, and a Chinese couple walked by, talking loudly in Mandarin and drowning out the old lady's response.

"I just—" he was stuttering and his voice was higher than normal, and oh god, had I made Zachary Goode cry?

"I saw it, honey. Don't worry. She loves you too much to let your stupidity ruin everything."

Loves?

Love. Did I love Zach? Why did I even try to pretend like I didn't know the answer to that question? Just minutes before, everything was perfect and falling into place and I was so sure that he felt the same.

"My advice, young man, is to figure out what you want before you go making a fool of yourself again."

This woman really was a loud talker. Suddenly, her head turned and she caught my eye. A wink. She winked at me. Oh.

Zach's gaze followed hers, and suddenly he was looking both confused and relieved at the same time, and I knew by the furrow of his brow that a migraine was beginning.

It was the last thing he needed. He had to finish a 20 page paper by the next morning.

How did I know so much about him when I'd only known him for six months?

"Cammie..." He was saying, and pushing past the old lady, who chose to chuckle in amusement rather than acknowledge his rudeness.

I stood up on shaky legs, awkward and wondering how we'd gotten here so quickly. Rash. I had been rash.

"I'm sorry, I..."

"Zach, listen, I..."

Our talking over one another only led to a deafening silence.

He shook his head as if to clear it of a thought or to relieve it of his headache, and I thought of how vastly inappropriate saying anything seemed.

Would we be shrouded in silence because of my one stupid mistake?

This was bound to happen sometime. Feelings couldn't be ignored indefinitely. There were too many... Well... Feelings in the way of that.

He took the envelope out of the inner pocket of his jacket, and my hand shot out to protest before I realized.

He just looked at me and then took the envelope in both hands, as if he was worried that I would take it from him. His eyes held a guarded look that I'd never seen before.

I wanted to say no, that this wasn't the way this was supposed to work. That we were supposed to be laughing in our favorite coffee shop, my hand on his arm and head on his shoulder as he opened the beautiful, telling thing that would speak his future in just a few sentences.

I wanted to pretend like I didn't realize that if the letter said yes, we'd probably have no reason to ever break this silence that we'd fallen into.

I wanted to run and hide from what suddenly seemed like an atomic warhead aimed directly at my heart.

Either way, there was no good that would come. Yes, he moved 20 hours away. No, his dreams were crushed, and how could I begin to comfort him after that?

Either way, what had, minutes before, seemed like the most sure, steadfast thing in the world was suddenly tearing apart in front of me in the soft ripping of the envelope.

He took the letter out and unfolded it with shaking hands.

He looked for a long time at the seal at the top, almost in a daze, and then finally his gaze creeped down to the body of the letter.

"Mr. Zachary Goode," he read, voice low and raw.

"It is with great pleasure that we send our apologies. Unfortunately, we are unable to accept you into our graduate program in the fall of the oncoming year."

His voice was cracking.

"However, we are honored to extend to you an invitation into our graduate program's Spring class, beginning next semester."

Next semester.

And just like that, his world and my world tilted on their axes.

**Review? Please? **

**Much love and helpful motivation for New Years Resolutions,**

**Inez**


	3. if the fates allow

**A/N: Hey guys {girls}, here's a short update. I'm sorry, it's just how the story fell and how time has fallen. I've been out of town for quite some time and this is the best I could do without keeping you waiting.**

**I hope you like it. Please review if you do. Seriously. Please. I'll take suggestions, opinions, anything, seeing as this is a kind of open plot line at the current moment.**

**here we go...**

Next semester.

And just like that, his world and my world tilted on their axes.

The silence rang for what seemed like ages.

"Zach," I started, then had to clear my throat. "Wow... Wow, that's..." My voice was steadily drifting higher. "That's great! Congratulations!"

His mouth was still standing open a little, and his eyes were still on the letter, and he wasn't smiling or moving or anything.

"Zach?"

His mouth slowly closed and his eyes drifted up to me, as if just realizing that I was still there.

"Zach, what's wro—"

"India. I'm going to India next semester. That's what I was going to tell you before you said—before I made a fool of myself." His hands were still shaking, and I took a step forward, wanting to comfort him but knowing that it wasn't the time.

"India? Since when were you going to India? What's in India?"

"The Tibetan program. They want me to be the journalism program head for the semester's group. I just found out tonight. That's why I was late—I was in a meeting."

"The oral history program? I thought that it was only led by faculty?"

"Exactly."

His eyes were begging for me to understand the underlying insinuation.

"Oh. Oh. Oh my god... Zach!"

"I know." He ran a hand through his hair, then jammed the letter back in its envelope angrily. "Why couldn't they just let me in when I asked them to? I didn't ask for special treatment."

"You're Zachary Goode," I said carefully, "how could they not want to treat you specially?"

He laughed a cruel laugh. "You sound like my mother."

"While a bit of a raging socialite, Catherine does have her good moments," I reached a hand out to his arm. It drew a half smile, and I reached up, cautious, to smooth his brow.

His unease seemed to melt away at my touch, and he caught my hand in his. "Oh like the time she accused you of seducing me?"

I laughed and took the letter from him, taking it out of the envelope and smoothing it before reinserting it correctly. "It would be a shame to ruin something that thousands would kill for."

"Yeah," he stepped closer, and when I looked up, he was right there, and he wasn't looking at the letter. "It would, wouldn't it?" He slowly took the letter from my hands, putting it in his pocket without looking away from my eyes.

I suddenly got the feeling that he wasn't talking about the wrinkled paper.

"I should probably fix the damage I caused before it's too late."

And then his lips were on mine.

**Hmm... Things are moving along quite nicely.**

**please review, and have a good week back for those of you returning to school tomorrow**

**much love, Inez**


	4. sing a love song while we stroll along

**A/N: Okay, so I've officially fallen into the whole post-holidays depression thing. I leave for school again in a couple of days, and the break has FLOWN by. Is it really already January 8th? Goodness. **

**Anyways, let's see how Cammie reacts...**

_"I should probably fix the damage I caused before it's too late."_

_And then his lips were on mine. _

I'm not exactly sure what I expected Zach's kiss to be like, but I know that it probably wasn't any of those things. His lips were cold from the chill of the night, but his hands were so warm on my neck.

When he pulled away, he was breathing hard and my heart was about to explode and I was wondering how such a short kiss could have such an enormous effect. Neither of us pulled away, but I couldn't meet his eyes as I licked my lips and tasted him—all hot chocolate mixed with the coffee and peppermints that I somehow already knew he would taste like.

One more kiss, this one longer with warm lips and the whisper of eyelashes on cheeks as he kissed each afterward.

"Hopefully that clears up any confusion," his forehead was on mine, a smooth pressure that made my pulse gallop and my breath hitch as his rushed over my skin.

I didn't trust my voice's capability to make words, so instead I pushed up on my tiptoes, noticing how my lips pressed up into his as if they had been made for the action, noticing how his hands had fallen from my face to my waist.

Soft, not exactly a kiss, not much more than the soft smack of our lips parting.

And it was then that I decided that every one of Zach's kisses, no matter how short, was going to tilt my entire world.

Zach's kisses. In my world.

His lips were pressing mind again, and behind my bliss and closed eyelids, my brain finally realized that we were still in a very public place.

I giggled, because really, I knew that I should have been embarrassed, but I couldn't bring myself to be. When I pulled back, he was smiling too.

"No, no, no. Three kiss limit," I pushed against his chest a bit, but he caught my hand instead of backing away.

"Really?" He asked, an eyebrow raised, daring me to prove myself, but I didn't want to back away, not yet, not then. It was all seeming very hazy and dream-like and I was expecting to pinch myself awake at any moment.

"Mmhm."

"Well then," he stepped away and grabbed my hand, and god, why was tonight the first time and the millionth time we'd done this lacing-fingers-thing?

"Care for a cup of hot chocolate?"

"Yeah, cause you threw mine away," I bumped his arm playfully with my shoulder as I let him lead me towards the little corner cafe.

"Only because I thought of a better use for your lips." His grin was mischievous as I smacked him.

How had things changed so quickly? It was like a season, gradually sneaking in until it hit suddenly, then leaving signs of itself everywhere. It was like the most natural thing in the world.

He was Zach Goode, in the sheep-like coat and the never-ending supply of flannels and well fitting jeans and the bizarre, rich colored corduroys. And I was Cammie, forever in a dress even in the freezing, fighting both the necessity of makeup and the urge to wear non-matching tights. The Journalism Summa Cum Laude Graduate, Ivy-League grad school acceptee, the bachelors-degree state school faculty hopeful and the creative writing, no career path nor future sophomore without any sort of life plan.

We were sort of doomed, but I knew we would make it anyway. We had made it. Somehow, through the months of stress and not exactly knowing what we were doing, we had made it to that moment

God, I loved him, and god, how I wish that alone was enough.

**Hmm... And so foreshadowing ensues. (Honestly, I'm not sure exactly where it's going, but things aren't going to be easy anyway they go, because where would the fun be in that?) hahah**

**Dont worry, still plenty of fluff to come. **

**Anyways, review and tell me your opinions and how your holiday break was**

**much love,**

**Inez**


	5. a beautiful sight, we're happy tonight

**A/N: So thank you so so so much for the favorites and follows and reviews and everything (basically being awesome). I'm sorry this is kind of late, I'm just trying to readjust to school and I'm taking a ton of hours this semester, so that's stressful. I should be analyzing poetry right now but whatever. Haha**

**So, let's see how Zach managed to get into this India predicament, shall we?**

"So then," he took a deep breath, "Dr. Solomon called me into his office and sat me down," he squeezed my hand, and his eyes were bright in an adorable way that might have had something to do with his story, but more to do with Christmas and the future and the fact that we were still holding hands, "and I swear, Cammie, I thought he wasn't going to let me graduate or something. I was already coming up with ways to fix my thesis so that it would be good enough, and then he just offered me scotch."

He laughed, but there wasn't much humor in it. "Dean Solomon. Called me into his office to offer me a drink."

"So what did you say?" It was so unlike the Dean. Dr. Solomon was, admittedly, a bit of an enigma. And maybe also a raging alcoholic. But he was also one of the most serious, focused men I had ever run across.

"'Thank you, sir, but it's nine in the morning.'"

I choke back a chuckle behind my coffee.

"Was that—" his mouth dropped open in fake shock— "was that a laugh? Are you laughing at me when I was terrified?" His hand ripped from mine and he snatched the rest of my cookie.

"Quit looking for excuses to steal my food and finish the story. So you wouldn't support Solomon's anti-sobriety campaign."

"Absolutely not," he was fighting a smile and the twinkle in his eyes. "And then he grunted and told me to sit down anyway."

He started talking about how he doesn't know what the university is coming to, hiring just anyone with any background, and I didn't know what I was doing there until he slammed a Manila envelope down on his desk." Zach leaned back in his chair, forcing casual without appearing unrelaxed at all.

"'This is the biggest load of shit I've ever seen,' he says, then he throws it at me. Literally throws it at me. 'Take the job, son. I wouldn't have agreed to offering it in the first place if I'd known you couldn't hold a drink in the morning. Consider yourself a lucky bastard.'" Zach laughs as if he still can't believe it himself. "And of course I said yes. I mean, how could I not? They've never hired an undergrad for a salaried faculty position. Ever."

His smile is slowly slipping. "And then I thought that this is what my mom warned me about, getting stuck. Getting a job right out of school and taking it and never getting around to going back for my masters." His eyes were roaming, a sure sign that something was plaguing his mind. "And—but I thought—I thought that—about..." He shook his head and let it drop.

He stared at the coffee in my hands for a long time.

"A job here would be good. I love it here, I have a life here, I have a house here, I have friends here..."

'I have you here,' I was dying for him to add, but he stopped short, meeting my eyes, and the look in them said it for him.

"But I wouldn't be here. I'd always be across the world with an empty office and an empty house sitting back at home," he suddenly sounded and looked much older than 22, "and I'd be even farther away than New York."

"Zach, I..."

"More coffee?" The waitress snuck up on both of us, taking us out of our bubble and back into the coffee shop. I glanced around and realized that most of the parade crowd had dissolved, leaving only a table of old ladies with glasses of wine and one other couple, as wrapped up in each other as Zach and I had been wrapped up in his troubles.

Couple. Was that what Zach and I were? Was it what we always had been?

I was too exhausted to try to figure it out.

"Yeah," Zach was shaking the haze out of his eyes, "um, house, black. Please." The waitress, who had been eyeing him with a bit more interest than I was comfortable with, took his cup and glanced at me.

"No thanks, I'm good."

She looked back over her shoulder when she was walking away. I couldn't help the scoff that came involuntarily.

"What?" Zach's eyebrows were furrowed in that adorable way that he had, when he was honestly clueless as to what was going on.

"You are so oblivious," I laughed.

"What?"

"She was checking you out," I pressed his palm flat to the table, tracing around his fingers on the smooth surface.

"Okay?"

"She was." I glanced up from my artistic endeavor.

He smirked lightly. "Well, you do it all the time, so I guess I've gotten used to it."

"Zach!" I screeched. Lies. "You sit upon a throne of—"

"House black, fresh pot." The waitress plunked his coffee down dangerously close to my fingers, which had paused near his. "And the last sugar cookie. Figured you might deserve something sweeter," she shot a look at me, and his eyes narrowed.

"Excuse me?"

He absently played with my fingers, slipping them in between his own in a way that I knew wasn't absent at all. His polite facade never slipped.

"Nothing," the waitress muttered, still smiling as if she had something else up her sleeve. "Call if you need anything."

"Sure. Merry Christmas..."

"Mary."

"Merry Christmas, Mary."

"Merry Christmas to you too," she left abruptly, looking confused as to whether she should be smiling or frowning.

"God, you're such a good person," I reached for his coffee cup.

"Oh come on, Cammie. She couldn't have been more than 16," he tugged at my fingers.

I finished my inspection of the cup. "Oh yes, and very much at the age of consent," I picked up the cup and tilted it just a bit, flashing him the pink writing on the bottom.

Zach just laughed. "I drew the line with you," he grabbed the coffee back and took a sip, grimacing as it burned his tongue.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Really, I was glad for the banter. I was glad for the subject change. I knew that before we were interrupted, Zach was going to ask me what he should do, and I couldn't tell him.

"That you, lovely Cameron, are out past your bed time," he stood up and threw a five on the table.

"You're going to tip her for hitting on you?"

"She boosted my ego. That deserves some sort of compensation," he winked and grabbed our cups. "Come on, before your car gets towed, Miss I-Only-Park-In-Illegal-Locations."

**So, Zach has some decisions to make (or, like any college student, temporarily neglect), and Cammie might have some places to go, and Bex might have a big mouth in the near future)...**

**Read, Review, Tell me how you like it/how you don't like it/how you want things to go/how your semester's going so far**

**I love to hear from you guys!**

**See ya soon,**

**Inez**


	6. i just want you for my own

**A/N: So, I need to address a couple of things in this chapter really quickly, but first, thank you ****_so_**** much for the reviews/favorites/follows because they make me smile really widely and make long days much better.**

**So in this chapter, I mention that Zach and Cammie go to the same church. It was a liberty that I took, as church is an important thing to me, and this is also AU (and this Zach is pretty much a mix of Zach and a real guy that I met at a camp meeting (how Zach and Cammie met) and happened to run back into at my church here where I go to college (because let's face it, real Zach is ****_not_**** this nice). So, liberty taken, sorry if I offend anyone. If I do, just ignore the church thing, but don't stop reading, because while its an important part of their relationship, it isn't a big part of the storyline. (Unless you guys want it to be, and if so, please tell me, because well, Jesus is my joy. [That's basically my life in one statement])**

**Also, they fight pretty easily in this chapter, and Zach gets upset very easily, but keep in mind, he's been working at this relationship for months and he's been very cautious easing into things (we'll see why later), but he's just kind of disheartened to find she hasn't necessarily wanted it for as long as he has.**

**Sorry for the super long AN, but I felt it needed to be discussed. Happy reading! :)**

Zach walked me back to my car, which had oh-so-graciously only been given a ten dollar parking fine. He snatched the ticket before I could, insisting that he pay, because the whole ordeal had been his idea in the first place, and "I should have known better than to meet you here. You can't park to save your life. I should have picked you up."

He should have. I was kind of wishing that he had.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow, then," he rocked back and forth on his heels, and if I had known better, I would have said he was nervous.

"Actually, Bex and I are going down to Chesapeake to see Aunt Abby while she's at her vacation house for the weekend," I leaned up against my car, knowing that this was going to get long. It seemed, even before the night and the kissing and the changing of things, that it was becoming more and more difficult to find time to see Zach.

He sighed and did the same, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, Sunday, then?"

"We're driving back early that morning because Bex has work at ten, and then church, which I'll see you there I guess, but you always sit with Grant and Jonas, and then lunch with Liz, and don't forget, you have that meeting with Townsend about the—"

Zach muttered under his breath. "I had forgotten about that, thanks."

I gave him a knowing look. Sometimes I knew what his schedule was more often than he knew.

"Exactly, and then—"

"Okay, I get it. I'll find time. Somewhere, there'll be time." He suddenly looked very tired and very strung-out.

I internally kicked myself. I'd been wanting Zach to have feelings for me since I'd met him at the workshop our different summer camps had teamed up in for their counselors the summer before, and here I was, already beginning to convince him that it wouldn't work, that being with me wasn't worth the worry and the stress.

I took a deep breath, ready to apologize, but he beat me to it.

"No, don't apologize for having a life, Cam. I understand better than anyone, trust me." His easygoing smile was back, albeit a bit weary, and I couldn't help but grin.

This was actually happening.

"Okay, then," I murmured, and stretched up to kiss him. Right as our lips brushed, he pulled away.

"Wait, no, I've already broken the three kiss limit." The glint in his eye told me he wasn't serious.

"Nah, I think that can be temporarily suspended for the greater good."

He smirked. "Now that I think about it, we've gotten a bit too familiar for a first date. I think we should slow it down."

"Zachary!"

His kiss was soft and lengthy, but not nearly long enough.

"Good night, Cams. Let me know that you get home safely," he opened the door of my car for me and ushered me in, then leaned down and planted a kiss on my cheek before closing it.

He was still waving in my rearview mirror when I squealed loudly enough to wake the entire neighborhood. _Oh. My. God._

Nights like that were only supposed to happen in fairytales.

But, in hindsight, Zachary Goode was a bit of a fairytale in himself.

The next morning, two cups of my favorite coffee were presented on my apartment doorstep by a very weary-eyed favorite boy. His six-a.m.-hadn't-yet-truly-awoken hair was mussed, his sweatpants were slung low, and his glasses were smudged. Some part of me screamed that I would never get enough of this Zach.

"Morning, sunshine," I said, only mildly confused and partially surprised, when I answered the knock at the door. This was such a Zach thing to do that I probably should have expected it.

His smile was soft and sleepy, while his stubble defined his sharp jawline. "Morning, Cams."

I leaned against my doorframe, drinking the moment in, that I'd found a guy thoughtful enough to bring me coffee before a four-hour drive, even if that meant cutting short his sleep by a good three hours, bribing Jonas to let him in a half hour before opening time, and driving all the way across the city to my apartment.

"So," I couldn't help but tease, "were the people in Gallagher scarred when you walked in in sweatpants?"

"Oh hush," he pushed past me and sat the coffees down on the couch's side table.

I laughed softly, closing the door and catching his arm as he turned. "Thank you, Zach. I…"

"Cammie! Do you know where I left my red heels?" Bex's British accent was at its strongest, reflecting her exasperation. She'd been at it since 5:21. Her last-minute tendencies were frustrating, to say the least. Especially when packing thirty minutes before a trip.

"Bex, you won't need heels, we aren't going out." I turned back to Zach, fully intending to tell him how much I appreciated his thoughtfulness. As his fingers tangled in mine, she spoke again.

"Yes we are, remember? Your aunt said she wanted to reintroduce you to that… Oh… that Josh boy?" I immediately tensed up, but Bex just rattled on, oblivious in her own room. "Remember? The one whose family has the beach house nearby? She said you two knew each other last summer?"

Oh. We knew each other, alright. I could feel Zach's questioning gaze, the muscles in his arm tensed under my touch, his fingers dead-locked within my other hand, on edge.

"Bex, I don't know what you're talking about. She didn't tell me anything about meeting up with the Abrams."

"Well, you better pack something hot, because from what I hear, he's a babe, and you two had a pretty—" she finally rounded the corner from the hallway and stopped dead in her tracks. "Zach."

"Bex." His voice was dangerously hospitable.

"Oh. What a lovely… Oh, look! Coffee! Thanks! I'll just…" She all but ran from the room.

I was going to die. Actual dieage.

"So, you two had a pretty… what?" The same voice, so careful. Ice concealed under warmth, which was backwards from the usual closed-off Zach, and in a way, even worse.

"Short month of knowing one another," I sighed, stepping away from him. "His family owns the vacation home next to the one Abby bought, and he showed me around the area back in June. It was just him being nice, really."

"Just him being nice. Really?" He was mocking me, and I hated it. Hardly ever was Zachary Goode a jerk, but when he shut down, he became the worst of them all.

My mouth was gaping in shock that this entire situation was even happening, and I stuttered to reply. "So there was the one kiss, but I told him no, that it was too soon, and that—"

"So there was a build up to some point that wouldn't be too soon?" His dark eyes flashed, daring me to try to justify myself.

"No! I didn't know what else to say! I didn't want to hurt his feelings!"

Somewhere down the hall, a door closed, Bex trying to give us privacy, and I realized exactly how loud my voice had gotten.

"In _June_, Cammie? Nevermind the feelings of the other guy who was texting you, desperate to get to know you better. How would he have felt about your little fling?"

"Zach, that's not fair, and you know it. Look, I—I didn't know that you liked me. I didn't know that I liked you. We'd spent a week at the same training camp, it wasn't like we were any sort of relationship. We never were until last night, because god, it took you long enough to get around to doing something about the situation, and—"

"Well forgive me when I say that I was a bit apprehensive. The night I met you, when I went back to the cabin and told Grant that I met the girl I was going to marry that day, he flipped a shit when he realized that I wasn't kidding. Those sorts of things just don't happen, Cammie. There had to be some catch, because—" he stopped abruptly, as if his mind had finally caught up to his mouth. His mouth snapped shut.

"You… you… Zach… that's…" What could I say? That I'd known him six months and had only been in some official semblance of a relationship with him for less than 12 hours, and suddenly he was saying that he wanted to marry me (at some point?), and it wasn't freaking me out? That it _was _freaking me out?

"That's ridiculous, Zach. I could have been a serial killer. Texting a person for a week doesn't tell you anything about their true character."

"Cammie, you work at a summer camp for disabled children, you wear a cross around your neck, and you text your grandmother everyday just to see how she's doing. I'm pretty sure I knew you well enough after a week of witnessing that to know that I wasn't just interested in friendship," his voice was dry and detached, haughty and exhausted.

"What are we even arguing about?"

"The fact that you were going out with some Jimmy guy this weekend and you were pretty intent on kissing both of us and not telling either of us."

"His name is Josh, and—"

"Hah! And you defend him!"

"That was _not_ me defending him, that was me correcting your error. I didn't know that Josh is going to be there this weekend, much less that I'm supposed to go to dinner with him, but I assure you that feelings are completely platonic."

"_He kissed you!"_

"And it was to make another girl standing twenty feet away jealous!"

"This guy is sounding more and more like an asshole," Zach muttered.

"Oh, like you are right now?" I took another step back, amazed that this man was the same that had held me close against the cold the night before, the Zach that woke up early just to see me off.

This seemed to strike a nerve. Zach stood stock still for a long moment, and I stood waiting for his next remark, heart still hammering in my chest. Sweet, kind Zach, with the patience of Job and an immeasurable ability to forgive. Where was he?

"Cammie, I—" his voice was melting, and his posture was falling, and he was defeated. "I'm sorry. I overreacted, I just… After camp, that was it for me, you know?" He reached out a hand towards me, then let it drop as he realized that I wasn't going to return to his side. "I guess it didn't strike me that you might not have felt the same way."

"Towards Josh? He had a bit of an infatuation, but he's been in love with this girl named DeeDee for years."

"No, about me. It isn't like I'd laid claim to you or something, and I just acted like I had. In June, I was just praying that you'd respond to my texts," he smiled ruefully.

"Eight hours later when I finally looked at my phone?" I couldn't help but return a small smirk, and he was wrapping me up in his arms before I could blink. Zach knew forgiveness when I offered it.

"I'm _so_ sorry. Punch me next time, okay?"

I laughed softly. "You're just tired," I pulled back and smoothed his hair, which was still sticking up at odd angles. "Last night was… different, and it's hard to process everything on too little sleep. Go back to bed. You don't need to drive to your apartment like this," I pushed him in the direction of my bedroom, where he'd accidentally crashed on numerous studying occasions before. Something told me that those would need to come to a halt now that our feelings were out in the open.

"But I was supposed to be charming and sweet and kiss you goodbye and give you your favorite coffee and…"

"You were, we just hit a bump in the road," I pushed him down the hallway in front of me. He fell onto my bed without further protest.

"See? Goodbye kiss," I leaned down, and kissed his cheek softly, pulling the covers up over him.

"That doesn't count," he whined.

"Then I guess that's punishment for accusing me of infidelity," I shoved his shoulder lightly, then picked up my duffel to head out. "Bye, Zach."

He harrumphed, but by the time I got my stuff sorted to leave the room, he was already asleep.

I microwaved my coffee and set the Captain Crunch and a bowl and spoon out on the counter for when he would wake up.

Bex skillfully avoided any conversation to do with Josh or Zach then entire way to Chesapeake.

**Hm... I wonder what she'll find at Abby's? Review and tell me? If you have ideas, definitely let me know, because this is super open still. A couple of definite things have to happen, but otherwise, I'm pretty much just kind of going chapter-by-chapter with coming up with things.**

**Have a nice holiday weekend, for those of you in the US! (It's like super warm here all of the sudden, and I wore Chacos today after it was like 20 degrees last Wednesday and it was GLORIOUS. So confused. Anyways. Have a lovely Sunday!)**

**- Inez**


	7. should auld acquaintance be forgot

**Happy reading...**

Okay, so maybe Josh _had_ liked me more than I originally let myself admit. DeeDee was seated to his left, and I have to say, I was proud of her. Since beginning college, she'd apparently given up the sparkly and pink phase and was now dressing like… well, not an eight year old. But I could still feel Josh's gaze following me as I hugged his parents and took my seat at the dinner table.

Halfway through the dinner, conversation had stalled, and I shifted, feeling progressively more awkward. When my phone vibrated, I let out a breath of relief, finally having a reason to excuse myself from Josh's lingering eyes and DeeDee's questioning looks.

"Zach, hey."

"Hey," I could hear his smile through the connection, "why do you sound like you're whispering?"

"Because I am. I'm at the dinner with the Abrams," I let my voice drift back up to normal volume as I stepped out onto the restaurant's veranda.

"The Abrams?"

"You know, the family that—"

"Oh, that Jimmy guy?"

"Josh!" I hissed, but couldn't help the smile that threatened at his obviously purposeful mistake.

"Well, I guess I'll let you go. Sorry, I didn't realize that you'd be out when I called."

"Zach," I shook my head in disbelief, even though he wasn't there to see it, "It's six thirty."

"Yeah. So?"

"So, you knew that I had dinner with them at six."

"Did I? Oops. My bad," we both laughed.

"You're horrible."

"Something told me that you needed saving," his voice softened a little.

I kicked at the railing I was leaning against, debating how much to tell him. "It's like an interrogation in there," I admitted finally, sighing into the receiver. "Now, what's your major, Cameron? Oh yes, and what do you actually plan to do with a degree like that? Do you have a backup plan? Has school been hard? Go to any parties?"

"Seeing any young men we should know about?" Zach filled in for me in his deepest voice, and I chuckled.

"Nailed it."

"Well, I'm sure Jimmy wasn't too fond of the answer to that question."

"Actually," I tapped my heel on the boards and shook my head to rid it of the voice that was saying things I didn't want to hear, "I don't think he was even paying attention to that part. His girlfriend is here with him. DeeDee, the girl I told you he's been in love with forever?"

There was a long silence, and I cursed myself for even mentioning it. It was stupid. I was being stupid.

"Why don't you sound particularly pleased about that?" Zach's voice was a bit gruffer than usual.

"Well, I… Uh…"

"Oh, _there_ you are, Cammie. We were getting worried about you. Is everything alright?" DeeDee seemed oblivious to the fact that she was interrupting something, but Josh was behind her, looking wary, as if he recognized the situation, as if he'd heard a bit too much.

"Yeah, um… Just a second. I'll be just a—Zach?"

Silence, but I knew that he was still there, listening and hearing everything DeeDee said in her high, carrying voice. I faintly heard Josh asking her to return inside, but I was focused on the silent man miles away.

I lowered my voice, hoping they wouldn't overhear anything else. "Hey, can I call you back later? I hate to seem rude to them."

"Yeah," he was attempting warmth, but falling just a tad bit short. "Of course. Um, actually, I'll just see you when you get back. I think I'm going to head to bed."

"Zach, it's 6:30. You won't be asleep for hours."

"I had an early morning."

"Yeah, so did I, but…"

"Really Cams, this whole decision-making process is really wearing on me. I'll just see you soon, okay?"

"Well, if you need to talk about anything, just call."

"Will do. Have fun."

"Yeah," I muttered, and the line went dead.

Great. I just had a way of messing everything up, didn't I?

I bit my lip, pressing the end button on my phone for no reason because the call had already ended. I knew that things with Zach weren't going to be easy, but he was perfect, and somehow we were supposed to make it work. He was right. This was it. He was it.

I knew that he was just more stressed than normal, what with his future on the line and all, but it seemed like things were already crashing after they'd just taken off.

"Cammie?"

Josh.

"Hey, I'll just be a minute, I'll be back—"

I felt a warm hand on the small of my back. "Is everything okay?"

I stepped away from his touch, knowing that it was just one of a friend, but somehow still feeling like I was betraying Zach.

"Yeah, it's fine!" I admit, my fake-cheerfulness probably wasn't the greatest the world had ever seen, but it should have been enough to convince the guy who was practically a complete stranger.

"_Cammie._"

I don't know what possessed me, if it was his concern or my worry or the fact that I was kind of dying inside, but it all came tumbling out. "Zach got accepted to Columbia for grad school. Next month. Or he's going to India. Next month."

"Wait, what?"

I just nodded my head, still not looking at him.

"I thought… Wait, how old is this guy?"

"Twenty two? Why does that matter?"

"He's older than you?"

"You're older than DeeDee. What does it matter?" I narrowed my eyes, finally looking at him. "Why do you care?"

"Because you're obviously hurting."

I laughed, a loud, ironic laugh. "I'm not hurting, I'm just confused. And worried."

"Does he treat you well?"

"I don't see why that's any of your business."

"Cammie. Please."

I sighed. "Like a princess. He's perfect, He's… It's all really new, alright? And he's really stressed about this. You know, about what to choose and all."

"But you're happy?" He almost looked like he didn't want to hear my answer, but I just laughed and gave it anyway.

"Moreso than I've ever been, Josh. And it's only been a day."

"You've only been together a _day_? And you're already fighting?"

"We aren't fighting."

He stepped closer, and I stepped back, suddenly uncomfortable with the way he was looking at me. "That's what it sounded like from this end of things."

"You know what, Josh? You don't know. You don't know _anything_ about Zach, or our relationship, or how long we've both wanted this, or that he cooks me homemade chicken noodle soup when I'm sick, not the crappy Campbells kind, or that he checks all of my papers for grammar mistakes and helps me learn French even though he _hates_ it, or that he does this thing, when he's feeling insecure and worried that he'll get hurt, where he closes himself off because my roommate has to mention some guy like you who decides to kiss me just to finally get up the nerve to ask out the girl he's wanted to be with since second grade."

I didn't realize that I'd said it all aloud until I was standing in the chilly air, breathing unsteadily, biting my lip so hard it was painful and seeing the boy in front of me crumble. No. Oh, no.

"Josh, I'm sorry, that was… That was way out of line, and I… I'm sorry."

He just looked at his feet and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his khakis.

"_Josh._"

"No, no, it's okay. I get it. I had no place asking all of those things," a hand came up to muss his hair, and achingly familiar habit of Zach's as well, "I just… I don't like to see you hurting, Cammie. But if you're happy, who am I to question that? I'm sorry." When he finally met my eyes, his weren't open and soft like they had always been before. There was some sort of wall there that I'd built up with my words.

I'd been lying to myself. Josh wasn't just some random guy who showed me around, and he wasn't a complete stranger. He knew me, as much as I tried to ignore it. Maybe he was just a friend, and had always been, but he cared. He always had.

As he turned to leave me out in the cold, I reached out to stop him. "Josh, I… You're a great guy. Thanks for that."

His smile seemed only mildly forced.

"DeeDee's a lucky girl," I squeezed his arm and attempted to smile back. He actually laughed at this.

"Yeah, too bad I found out that kissing her's like kissing my sister."

"Oh… Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize…"

"That's fine, most people don't."

"Well… You'll find the girl for you someday. And she'll be incredibly lucky, Josh," I let go of his arm and shoved his shoulder. "Now come on, we've got some chocolate cake to eat."

"I thought you'd never remember." It was the first real grin we'd shared that night, and I couldn't help but think that something was resolved that had been left with loose ends for far too long.

Something was righted, and I was lighter, and things were going to be okay.

**Things are going to be okay (I say as I procrastinate on school work yet again). **

**Shameless promotion: my best friend of over a decade is a singer/songwriter (the real deal, you guys, she played at SXSW last year. She met Hunter Hayes and he attacked her. Like, literal, hug-off-the-ground-I-love-you attacking. Like, what even. She's so fabulous. Gah.) **

**ANNDDD she has a music video coming out on Monday (the 26th). She also has an album (like, she's professionally recorded WHAT GAH) on iTunes and she's on Soundcloud (search Jessica Faith. She'll be the one with the fabulous long brown hair (well, now it's short) and pink dress singing about Wallflowers). ****_So_****, basically, just check her out. She's awesome. She's the best best friend a girl could find, and she's kind of becoming semi-known around the music scene and she's opened for some pretty big people ("So wake me up when it's all over" sounds MUCH better from the front row), and she hasn't forgotten me, so that counts for something! **

**Can you tell I'm kind of having a hard time processing that my best friend is this awesome? (Like, I already knew, but still now other people are appreciating her AND I'M JUST SO PROUD OF HER anyways... Ahem)**

**I can't post her blog link here, but its jessica faith music at wordpress. I'm noticing that her mom and her aunt comment on every post. ****_So_**** typical. Haha**

**Anyways. Find her. Review this for me, (please, I would love you forever).**

**Thank you ****_so_**** much to the lovely reviewers. You completely make my day! :)**

**Much love and new tunes...**

**Inez**


	8. faithful friends who are dear to us

**Alright, this is the last chapter that I already have prepared, so updates may be a little slower than usual from here on out, because, well, life, but anyways.**

**Enjoy!**

"So… wait… Josh and DeeDee _aren't_ together?" Bex was squinting at me as she took off her heels later that night.

"Exactly what I thought when he told me. Apparently kissing her's "like kissing his sister."" I pulled the pins out of my hair and let out a sigh as it finally fell back down around my shoulders. My lingering headache immediately lessened without the prodding of the pins.

"Yeesh. Sounds even worse than that time Zach and I got put on kiss cam at the game," Bex paused in pulling off her tights just long enough to catch the glare I sent her way. "Speaking of Goode, I've been put off long enough. Spill."

Some day Rebecca Baxter was going to win a contest for most devious smirk.

"Um… What's there to know? He's just Zach," I attempted to shrug nonchalantly, but a smile was already threatening the edges of my mouth.

"Yeah, and obviously his lips are 'just Zach' too, because I haven't seen someone glowing like that since Preston lost it to Macey in tenth grade." She paused, a weird look appearing on her face. "God, it sounds weird to say it like that."

"Rebecca!"

"What?" She gave up trying to be delicate and proceeded to rip the tights off. I internally cringed. "I'm just saying, he's glorious, he's got glorious lips, and _obviously_ they do glorious things."

"Bex, it might have helped you to try taking the tights off from the waistband, not the knee. That's how its supposed to be done."

"Can it, Cameron, or I'll tell Zach all about your little…" she made a general motion with her hand towards me, "whatever the kids are calling it these days. Now, I want details. Not a bloody offputting statement of 'he's just so sweet,' or 'it was wonderful.'"

I internally cringed at how well she resembled me in her imitations.

"I don't know, Bex. We went to that light thing. You know, the one that they had all of those posters up everywhere for? He asked me to go with him like, last month, and I said yes like an idiot because it wasn't cold yet," I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, because you _so_ hadn't already begun to think about ways to keep warm. This thing has been cooking since, what, June? Don't try to fool me, Cam. I can read you like a book."

"_Anyways_," I set about freeing myself from my heels as well, "I got there, and he wasn't there, and I was honestly beginning to think he'd stood me up." Bex scoffed. "And then he was just there, and he was all adorable and in flannel and he had that crease he gets in his forehead when he's been thinking way too hard about something and he wishes that he'd worn his glasses and—"

"Was he wearing one of those god-awful Ski Louisiana shirts?"

"No, Bex, he wasn't. So he started talking about how he wanted the night to be perfect and—"

"And how he wanted you to marry him and have his 2.5 kids and a dog named Fido."

I promptly shot her a glare and threw a heel across the room to land beside her on her bed. "Rebecca, if you don't stop interrupting I'm just going to leave you to your imagination."

She huffed a half laugh. "That would definitely get more interesting than the real story. Anyways."

"_Thank you_. So I couldn't _believe_ that I'd forgotten that it was the day he was supposed to find out about Columbia, right? And then he pulls out this letter and says that everything has to be perfect before he opens it. Oh, and he's been holding my hand through all of this…"

"He holds your hand all the time."

I moved to the bathroom and began taking off my jewelry. "Well, yeah, not really, but even so, this was different, you know? Things felt different. Like they were finally changing. And then the lights came on and we had this huge misunderstanding because I was stupid and then he opened the letter and got in for early admin and then he told me he got a job with the university and he'll be in India and then he kissed me and then we had coffee and then some girl tried to flirt with him, but he wasn't having it, and then he walked me to my car and then I saw him this morning and he basically said he's going to marry me."

I took a large breath, feeling good to have the whole affair off my chest, and secretly glad that Bex was the one to hear it. My mother would have been having a fit by that point if I were to tell her.

"Woah, woah, woah. Slow down, Jesse Owens," she knocked me to the side to have some mirror space as well. "You said he _proposed_?"

"No! Bex, we just kissed for the first time last night. He hasn't even officially asked me out yet. We're far from that."

She gave me a knowing look, "and yet, you say that he says he's going to marry you like it's no big deal."

"Can we not talk about that? I'm trying not to think about that part."

"The last person who told you that was Grant in the seventh grade, and you'd been officially dating a whole week. You said he was creepy and broke up with him. I'd say Zach's at least borderline psycho by those standards," she grabbed a washcloth and began washing off the night's makeup.

"Bex, that was seventh grade. And you know Zach. It isn't weird. Sometimes, you just know, right? He doesn't start things until he's absolutely positive that he's willing to stick it out for the long haul."

"Oh," Bex smirked, and I knew that she had me, "that explains the fact that he's had girlfriends before, then?"

"Okay, high school is a very different time, and hardly anything is expected to last for the long-term then. Plus, he didn't even mean the whole marriage thing. It just slipped out. He was upset, I was upset, there was a significant lack of sleep somewhere mixed in there. You know Zach. When he's upset with someone he's comfortable around, he has no filter. Every thought that even halfway comes to mind comes pouring out."

"Yeah, and it gets him into all kinds of trouble. Like right now."

"Bex, drop it. That's what I did. That's all you _can_ do. _He_ did."

"Okay, well fine. Let's move on. Did you say he got a job? At the college that he _just_ graduated from?"

"Yeah…"

"Doing something other than secretarial or support staff work?"

"Leading the foreign journalism program in India this spring."

"Bloody hell… Solomon actually _hired him?_"

"Exactly. And he got accepted into Columbia."

"That's great! Isn't that what he wanted?"

"Exactly what he wanted," I sighed and threw my makeup-coated washcloth into the hamper. "Except he got accepted for this spring."

I could see the gears in Bex's head turning until they finally grinded to a halt at the problem. "Wait…"

"Exactly," I quickly changed into my pajamas and crawled into bed.

"And now he has you back home," she turned off the light and crawled into her own.

"Wow, Bex. Way to make me sound like an army wife. Seriously, it'll be easy compared to what some couples have to go through."

"When they've only been officially together for a few weeks?"

"Bex, it's practically been six months. We were just taking things slowly."

"Yeah," I could hear her disdain even from across the room, "slowly is right. But I'm sure it'll be fine, Cammie. Zach's pretty much perfect, and you're pretty much perfect, so things will stay pretty much perfect. Don't fool yourself, Cammie. As much as I love putting up with you as a best friend, I don't want to spend a semester nursing your broken heart."

I shouldn't have been shocked because, well, it was Bex, and she was known for being blunt, but I couldn't help but be a little hurt by her flippant attitude. Even though she and Grant had been on rocky ground since Thanksgiving, it didn't give her excuse to criticize my relationship decisions.

I rolled over and pretended to be asleep.

**I know it's kind of a boring chapter, but Bex and Cam's relationship needed to be introduced, and Zach's still back home thinking, if you catch my hint.**

**Review and tell me how you liked it? How the weather is where you are? **

**(yesterday I wore nike shorts and chacos. Today I'm wearing my heaviest winter coat and uggs. Its kind of funny to walk across campus and see how confused people are because no one knows what to wear. It's January, of course, so yesterday people were dying of heat stroke in sweaters, and then today there are people who woke up and saw it was 50 degrees and are now practically turning blue because it's dropped to the thirties and its super windy and they're wearing sandals and capri leggings)**

**Anyways, see ya later**

**Inez**


	9. but seas between us broad have roared

**Sorry this is coming later than I'd like. School's been busy and life's made school look like recess lately. Today was a snow day, and between the sledding and the headaches and the can't-get-my-building's-fire-alarm-to-stop-going-off, here's what you get. Shortish, but something**

**Happy reading...**

The weekend passed quickly, and by Tuesday, I could tell that the week would be gone in an instant. I hadn't had the chance to talk to Zach, and he hadn't been making an effort to talk to me, but in some ways, I thought that was a good thing. We'd jumped headlong into something without thought of the consequences, and I wasn't regretting it, but I definitely wasn't as overjoyed as I had anticipated. I needed to get my head together, and he needed to get his life together.

Wednesday morning was the telling point—were we going to ignore each other until the last possible minute, or were we not? It was a simple decision, and I decided to let him make it for us.

I showed up at the little corner café and found our favorite table, just like any other Wednesday. We'd started the breakfasts inadvertently; we kept running into one another there, and eventually pooled our individual tables into one. In the middle of the room, closest to the window, where the sun would warm us up to the idea of waking and the ding of the doorbell would chime in the comfortable silence.

I walked in with Eliot, a pencil, and my watch. I sat down two sentences into "The Waste Land," with a sip of hot cocoa against my burnt tongue. I couldn't bring myself to order any food. It would be a waste—I wouldn't be able to eat anything until I spoke to him.

I was rereading a Wagner reference, trying to read the German without looking it up (a pointless experiment, as I'd never been one for languages) when I began to regret not bringing my phone. Maybe he'd called or texted, saying he wouldn't come, but I'd adhered to our "no phones" rule, so I wouldn't have known. It was getting dangerously close to 8, and I had class at 9:40, and I wasn't able to concentrate on anything but him, but for some reason, breaking a tradition seemed like it would break something bigger.

When he sat down, he was out of breath, he had messy hair and his thick framed glasses, the biggest coffee cup they served, and a bagel for each of us. "I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter," was all he said, and I smiled softly at his quoting, wishing that I had the memory and the love to memorize something as difficult and depressing as T.S. Eliot.

He pulled out his own book, something oriental, and I looked back to mine. After reading a few minutes in uncomfortable silence, he pushed the chocolate chip and strawberry bagel across the table without so much as a glance upwards. "Eat."

I didn't.

Another few minutes passed.

His book slammed shut with a resounding smack. "What's up? Did I do something to make you mad?"

I closed my own calmly, but my speech was anything but calm. "What? No. Of course not."

"Yeah, Cammie, something's wrong." I hated the way he sounded—like he knew he was right, because he was.

I just picked at the bagel in front of me. When I picked up my cocoa, I could feel that it was cold through the cup.

"You didn't call."

"I didn't."

"You weren't in church. I was worried."

"We got held up."

"_Cameron_."

My eyes snapped up to his.

"What are we doing here?" His question was desperate, and his eyes were the same.

"Having breakfast like every week while I try to come up with something to say that adequately translates to 'I'm sorry,' 'I messed up,' 'I missed you,' 'Why is this weird?' and 'What are we doing?'"

He let out a breath that I hadn't realized he was holding, and I took it in in relief. Suddenly, it seemed like the elephant on my chest had finally decided to move on. He smiled, just a little, and so I smiled. A lot.

When his fingers met mine, it was like coming home, but not, because, well… this shouldn't have happened in the first place.

"I've come to a decision that you aren't going to like," he was smiling still, playing with my fingers like he was glad to have been granted permission.

I put down my long-abandoned book and looked him straight in the eye. I was going to have to learn to give rather than only wanting to take. "I'll be happy with anything you're happy with."

His grin broke wider, and his lips parted, as if he was about to speak, until suddenly, he was leaning up out of his chair and they were descending on mine. "You know, you're right," I murmured, my lips brushing his as I fought back a smile. "I am utterly _furious_ that you came to this decision."

His eyes sparkled. "Okay then," he pulled back before our lips truly met. "Just for that, I'll be glad to alleviate your anger." He sat back down in his seat, looking a bit too smug, and I blinked hard, still expecting the pressure of his lips to meet mine.

"Jerk."

"Not hardly," he smirked. "At any rate, I made a few phone calls yesterday," he swirled his coffee and looked at me in sparing glances as if he was waiting for something. "Talked to Soloman, talked to Columbia, talked to my mom." He laughed as I sneered. "Talked to Townsend."

"You talked to him? _Soloman,_ drunk off his mind as he is, is more of a father to you than that man."

"Yeah, but not when that man is a very important man holding the reigns of very important strings," Zach muttered, and I immediately regretted bashing his dad. If that's what you could even call him.

"Okay. Well?"

"I don't even know how I'm in this situation," he laughed, a bit like he didn't believe that any of this was true, and then he shook his head, as if he wished it was and wished it wasn't at the same time.

"Because you're—"

"Don't say because I'm me, Cammie, because it's not. I did one dissertation for the India program, and I filled out an application for Columbia just like every other grad student that applied. I didn't get any special treatment, and, as I was so graciously informed when I called to explain my situation, I _won't_ get any special treatment. Period." He sounded almost bitter, and he ran a hand roughly through his hair like he wished that he wasn't himself.

"What are you saying?"

"I've come to a decision that you aren't going to like," he tapped his cup on the dull wood tabletop.

"And I said that there wasn't a decision that I wouldn't like, and if there was, I'm not that important anyway," I muttered, beginning to get agitated.

He shot me a look, and I shot him one back.

He reached into his jacket pocket and took out an envelope, a trend that I was beginning to dread, and handed it to me.

"I leave the day after New Year's."

**Okay, next chapter bases will be covered and things are going to start picking up. Well, I think they are. Literally just finished writing this. Anyway, enjoy the lovely weather (or the lovely being out of school) if you are, and if you aren't, have a lovely school week!**

**Review and tell me how things are going for yall/what you think/what you want to happen, because that's still up for grabs**

**with love,**

**Inez**


	10. i'll be home for christmas

**A/N: Hey, lovlies. Sorry this has taken me a while to get up. I would make excuses, but college in itself is an excuse, so yeah. Hope yall are staying warm! Hopefully your weather hasn't been as bizarre as ours has here.**

**Hopefully you'll like this one...**

Zach was the only person I'd ever met that was so thoroughly in-between. He wasn't Southern—the coast of Maine had him grow up with wind-chapped cheeks and a strong love of salt in the air and rocky shores, but his mother was the picture of the old South and the women it raised.

His hair was always almost needing to be cut, but not quite because the sides were always short enough; his jeans were always almost too tight but not quite because they were so meticulously tailored. His skin was always pale, but in a porcelain, creamy way that was only complexion, not lack of time outdoors.

He was incredibly well dressed, but he didn't try to be with his strong inclination towards deep-colored corduroys, various forms of flannel, and sheeplike vests and jackets that verged on frat but not really with the constant presence of his favorite old converse.

He was friendly but an enigma, he was handsome, but in a dashing, old fashioned, tall-and-dark way, not a modern, fun time, Cali-and-Parties way.

He was an adventurist, a missions leader abroad, and honestly, with a mother like his, a bit of a martyr. But he was also a stay-home, plaid pajama pants, let's have coffee and be lazy all day type of guy.

Zach was entirely his own person. I had yet to figure him out. But whatever he was, I liked every new part I discovered.

He was staring at me staring at him, and suddenly he looked nervous.

"Zach, this ticket—"

"Is to Kenya, I know."

"Is this some kind of half-way stop to India?" I flipped the tickets over, as if their backs would read his mind. "I don't understand."

He chuckled an ironic sort of chuckle. "I don't really either, but right now, it's where I need to be."

"In Kenya?" I tried my best to keep my disbelief out of my tone. Tried being the optimal word.

"Yes."

I shook my head. This was so... Zach. It was such a Zach thing to do. I would have been angry had I not been intrigued.

"So you aren't going to India?"

"No. Well... Yes. But not until the summer."

"So you're going to Columbia."

"No." This he was vehement about.

"Oh... Okay?"

His eyes met mine, and I could tell that he immediately sensed the apprehension there. "I thought you would be happy about that?"

"Does it matter? Either way, you're hours away." It wasn't meant to be bitter, but it came out with a note I wasn't proud of.

"But," he smirked, "that's just the thing. I'll be in Kenya, working on a new program with Soloman for a month..."

My mind was starting to process something other than time-differences and international phone rates. "A month?"

"Yeah. And then I'll be back for a month, and then I'll be in India for a month." He was full-on grinning by the time he finished, and I was beginning to feel a smile coming on as well.

"I'm sorry, I must have heard you incorrectly. You're working on a new program with Soloman?"

"Yes. He called me into his office. Again," he chuckled and grabbed half of my bagel taking a bite because I obviously wasn't going to. "This time he also had coffee as a choice refreshment. Horrid, somewhat tepid, but coffee nonetheless."

I raised an eyebrow, "So Soloman's trying to suck up? Did George Washington roll over in his grave yet?"

"Hah. Hah. Very funny," he rolled his eyes but then paused, as if realizing something, "Although, now that I think about it, that _does_ explain the crepes."

"Crepes?" I snatched the bagel out of his hand and took a bite of it. "He fed you crepes?"

"You're going to get boy cooties," he smirked as I chewed, and I scowled around the mouthful of bagel.

I took a long drink of hot chocolate, and when it was obvious that he wasn't going to give any more details until I prodded him, I sighed. "Oh darn, I'm so worried. He bought you _crepes_?"

"No, he made them."

"He made them." I tried to force my voice above a deadpan, but it wasn't going any higher. Joe Soloman was best known for booze in class and Fs on tests. Not for getting chummy with students.

"Yeah. Had a hot plate out with a pan when I walked in. I didn't ask about it, and he all but threw a plate at my face," he shook his head. "Seriously. It was on top of his desk. I'm pretty sure that desk's been here since the university opened, and he was just casually using it as a stovetop. Not that its invaluable or anything."

I just sat there with my mouth open for a long moment until I realized what I was doing. When I snapped it shut, Zach took the bagel back and took another bite. We passed it back and forth a few times in silence.

Kenya, and then India. Did that mean he'd have a desk job when he was back in the States? I hoped so, but I didn't at the same time. Zach was smart. He could hold his own in any grad school in the country. Ivy League included. He didn't need to just give that up. But I guess I'd known all along that he would for a little adventure.

Above all things, Zach was a people person. If he could just meet people for the rest of his life, that's what he would have done. Which, in this case, was beginning to seem like a plausible idea. The worst thing was, he had a love for the faraway. His mother certainly wasn't one to call back home for, and his father… well, Townsend might as well have been nonexistent. Sometimes friends just weren't enough to tie him back to home.

Somehow I knew that I never would be enough either.

"So what's this week look like for you?"

"Aside from the two finals I have tomorrow?" I tapped my cup on the counter. "Don't change the subject, Zach. Please. Can we talk this out?"

He gave a long sigh and slumped back in his chair, then reached out for my hand across the table. "I can't really tell you much about it myself. We're kind of skating on heresay with Kenya. I mean, I know we'll be in Makuyu. It's like 30 minutes northeast of Thika."

His eyes were shining just saying the names of the towns.

"English, please," I laughed.

"Northeast of Nairobi," he smiled a bright smile that I hadn't seen in a while, dimples and all, and I instantly melted. "But honestly, I'm just ready to see Rabten again. We haven't talked in, like, months, and I promised him I'd help him with his…"

"His pick up lines."

Zach laughed, a deep throaty happiness that sent a shiver down my spine. "Not quite," he ducked his head to look intently at his coffee, turning a distinct shade of pink that bloomed over his cheeks in soft way. "He skipped right over that after the second lesson. He got married this fall. I'm supposed to be helping him with his college applications."

"He hasn't gone to college yet?" Rabten was a 20-something Tibetan refugee that had been Zach's translator the summer before. Rabten was also, according to Zach, notoriously bad with the ladies and a fantastic imitator of the Dalai Lama.

"No, he had to work to support his family after his dad passed. Now Sita is begging him to finish classes. She wants her husband to be an 'educated man,'" he smirked, shaking his head. "Can't say I blame her. Man is hopeless with finances."

"Says the guy who barely passed macro," I tore my hand away from him and pulled my hair up off of my neck into a ponytail. A blond strand still fell back into my eyes, and Zach pushed it back behind my ear.

"I can balance a mean checkbook."

"Too bad they have internet banking now," I laughed and tapped on the over of my book and glanced out the window of the coffee shop. A toddler was pulling her mother into the toy shop across the street and the father was standing back, on his phone, looking like he had better places to be.

"Wait, what time is it?"

"I don't know. I don't have my phone," I shrugged, but suddenly I was feeling uneasy. Who knew how long we'd been there talking.

"Yeah, neither do I," he looked around for a moment, presumably looking for a wall clock. For some reason, I was relieved to hear he hadn't brought his phone. It meant something.

"Zach, you're wearing a watch."

"Oh. Oh right," he laughed uneasily.

"Why are you so jumpy?"

"I have a webcam meeting at… In twenty minutes, actually," he groaned.

"Oh… Well, you should go."

"I should." But he didn't get up to move.

"Zach," I chuckled, "Shoo. Go. It'll take that long to get back to your apartment."

He smiled, a small, tentative smile. "You're right."

"I'll see you tonight at eight," I squeezed his hand, then sat back in my chair to look at him as he stood up.

"At eight?"

"Yeah. The Student Alumni banquet. Remember?"

He shook his head and smiled a strange sort of smile, one that I'd never seen before. "I had totally forgotten about that," he leaned down, and suddenly, I was nervous. "Thank you," was warm and let out in a breath that tickled at my face.

"Dust off that tux, Goode," I smiled, trying to fight the butterflies in my stomach.

"Yeah," he wasn't looking at my eyes. "Will do," he dipped his head, and time was suspended. He was there, waiting, hesitating, and then his lips were against mine, warm, soft, kissing me gently in a drawn-out way that made the kiss seem much longer than it was. He pulled back and pressed a swift, hard kiss to my forehead, muttered a "Pick you up at 7:30," and then he was walking out the door, grinning even more than I was.

**There you go... Zach's leaving. Sort of. **

**Opinions? I love hearing from you!**

**With love**

**Inez**


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